Culture Shock
by Moon Lovers Lover
Summary: Soo Ho Kim cursed his father, his existence, and the entirety of South Korea.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This may be just a one-shot, but it also may grow into something more, I don't know myself. I hope everyone will enjoy this.

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Sitting in the chemical-smelling airplane seat with a screaming child behind him, a gum-chewing stewardess walking by him – and a tiny old lady who snored like a huge dude next to him – Soo Ho Kim cursed his father, his existence, and the entirety of South Korea. The old lady let out a particularly loud and powerful snort, and he put his headphones on, putting his playlist on shuffle, letting Drake's voice overpower the screaming behind him. He seethed, _knowing_ with a damning certainty that he didn't deserve this – this _exile_. When the summer was over and he returned home to California, he was not speaking to his father for at _least_ a month. At most, a year.

It had all started when his sister returned from her school trip to a sister school in somewhere called Busan, somewhere in South Korea. She came back, glowing with Korean makeup, laughing _behind_ her hand, and charming Grandma with her language skills. Their father was impressed. More than impressed. "Yah, why can't you be more like your sister!" he would say, when Soo Ho got himself into any sort of scrape. Which, yes, he would do often – but not often to warrant that kind of a reaction.

Honestly, he shouldn't have been surprised when his dad began to send him to Korean language classes. What surprised him was how far he was willing to go to ensure that Soo Ho suddenly became some sort of perfect Korean boy. "Dudes," Soo Ho would tell his soccer team, "I was born in _San Francisco_. I'm one hundred percent Californian. I can't even order a _burger_ in Korean – and my dad thinks I should be fluent by this point." They would slam him on the back, and things would be good.

Until his father found out about The Girlfriend, The Brother and The Party. The Girlfriend was capitalized because there was no other way to put it. She totally liked him. Which, of course, wasn't surprising that he was a hot Asian dude who worked out. You couldn't get much better than that. The Girlfriend was hot, blonde, sporty _and_ smart – a legendary combination. She was a surfer, and had a big rack (a _motorcycle_ rack, not a bicycle rack – to most people's chagrin, Soo Ho used this description much too often). The thing was – her _brother_ was all of those things and more (minus the rack). And when Soo Ho saw him getting out of the pool, shirtless and dripping – he came to a rather shocking and awkward conclusion.

He was very much physically attracted to dudes. The dude was _hot_.

The was only the beginning. There was a party – the kind of party where there are red plastic cups with beer and god-knows-what in them left laying around on the front lawn, and the cops show up at around three in the morning. It was obviously the kind of party that Soo Ho loved and that his father would never let him step a foot near (somehow, his English getting worse the more annoyed he got about it). Obviously, that never stopped Soo Ho. He was Soo Ho Kim and he _owned_ those parties.

Until The Party (also capitalized, because there was no other way to put it). He was getting drunk, making out with his hot girlfriend and playing beer pong – until The Brother showed up. A few things happened, a few more beers were downed… And then, Soo Ho woke up the next morning in his girlfriend's bed… With The Brother.

There was no question about what had happened. He had hickeys and questionable stains to prove it. He had just slept with a _dude_ ; and judging by the used condoms, had liked it enough to go for at least three rounds.

It wouldn't have been the first time he had cheated on a girlfriend, but it sure as hell was the first time he had cheated on a girlfriend with her _brother_. It would have been more awkward if The Girlfriend hadn't cheated on him with one of the band kids from school. They were both wrong and they maturely decided to just break up and leave it at that.

But somehow, his father found out. He didn't seem to care at all about the fact that he had slept with a _dude_ per se – but what he _did_ care about was that he had gone to One Of Those Parties and that he had done Unspeakable Things such as Drinking Beer, Having Sex and Doing Typically Teenage Things (instead of what, _studying_?).

And that somehow resulted in him being sent to Korea for the summer before he started college.

The only positive things about being in a foreign country for three months would be that A) nobody would make 'ho' jokes about his name and B) that he wouldn't be looked askance at for sleeping with a dude, because nobody would know. That was it. Those were only good things about South Goddamn Korea and Seoul Fucking City – and he usually prided himself on being a very chill and positive dude.

Soo Ho managed to fall asleep on the plane, despite the other passengers. When he disembarked from the plane and managed to get through customs and the airport, he huffily paced the lobby area. He got a text from his father asking, 'Did you get there alright?' He made a face and sent a text to him that contained nothing but the middle-finger emoji. That gave him a feeling of immense satisfaction, because, really, what could his dad do? At some point, he was told, someone from the family he was supposed to be staying with would show up and drive him to the place. It was some dude called Park… Park something. He couldn't really remember.

But he stood there for what seemed like an hour and the dude didn't show up.

Maybe he just couldn't find a place to 'Park' his car. Soo Ho cringed at his own joke.

His arms got really tired from holding the bag (and he worked out a lot – so that meant something) so he went and sat down. He tried chatting up a few girls, but the language barrier was a problem. They giggled behind their hands and talked really fast in Korean. He tried to communicate that they were really cute and maybe they could have some coffee with him but they left with some older dude holding a sign (ostensibly with their names on it – Soo Ho still couldn't _read_ Korean hieroglyphs and shit).

He bought himself a coffee with his card, using one of the few vocabulary words he could remember, 'thanks'. He drank the coffee. The homestay dude still didn't show up, and airport coffee wasn't good, even in Korea – where (probably) according to his father, people were one hundred percent flawless, shat rainbows and got perfect scores on their math tests. He finished his coffee angrily and threw the Styrofoam cup in the nearest trash can from where he sat.

There was the sound of someone clapping. "Wow! Nice shot, California boy."

Soo Ho turned around. Behind him, the _gayest_ dude he had ever seen sat, drinking some sort of fancy drink with a straw. His Gucci sunglasses were perched on his forehead, and his pink button-up shirt matched his shoes. "Uh, thanks?" Soo Ho said, wondering how the _hell_ the dude had known where he was from.

"It's on your hoodie," the dude added helpfully, sipping from his straw. "I'm Yeo Wool. Last name Kim."

Glancing down at his hoodie, Soo Ho realized that it did indeed say, 'California'. He grinned and stuck his hand out. "Uh, Soo Ho. Last name also Kim."

Yeo Wool's hand was really cold and pale, and the number of golden rings and bracelets he wore might have surpassed a world record. This homie was _rich_. "You spend a few more hours here and you'll meet like, _ten_ more people whose name is 'Kim'," he said dryly, taking a long sip from his straw. "As a Korean-American to another Korean-American," he said, raising his eyebrows, "We might not all look the same, but we sure as hell all have the same names." He folded his fingers down. "Kim, Park, Lee, Choi." He wiggled his remaining six fingers. "Anyone else is an outlier." Yeo Wool finished his fruity drink with a single 'slurp' and re-applied his lip gloss.

"Oh," Soo Ho said (unsure of what exactly he was supposed to say to that), sliding into the seat across from Yeo Wool.

"So, what are you doing here?" Yeo Wool asked. "Coming to study abroad?"

"I'm in exile," Soo Ho said bitterly. "Went to a _sick_ party. Now I'm here."

"Whoa, your parents are strict," sighed Yeo Wool. "That's tough, being sent to a foreign country just because of a party…" He grinned and winked. " _I'm_ here for love."

"Really?" Soo Ho asked. "…Like, you're gonna go on a dating spree of Koreans?"

"My online boyfriend lives in Seoul," Yeo Wool clarified. "And I'm going to meet up with him."

"Oh, I see." Soo Ho sighed. "Lucky dude…"

"Don't worry, you'll find yourself a boyfriend," Yeo Wool said sympathetically, patting Soo Ho's hand.

Soo Ho stared at him. "Dude-"

"Darling, my gaydar isn't _ever_ wrong," Yeo Wool said, pursing his lips. "You're at _least_ bi."

"Dude, I only slept with another dude like, _once_ ," Soo Ho grumbled. "And now I'm in South Fucking Korea," he added, but Yeo Wool ignored that.

Yeo Wool looked satisfied. "There we go. One's enough, believe me. There'll be more to come," he said, spreading his arms, to indicate how many. Soo Ho realized that his shirt was made out of delicate material that was as see-through as it was clingy, too smooth to be gauze and too translucent to be silk.

"What _is_ your shirt?" he asked impulsively, curious.

"Versace," Yeo Wool answered imperturbably. "The pants are Gucci, just like the sunglasses, and the shoes are Prada." He cast a critical eye over Soo Ho's sneakers, basketball shorts and 'California' hoodie. " _You're_ a walking Nike advertisement," he said with amusement. "Let me guess. You play soccer?"

"Uh, yeah?" Soo Ho answered defensively. "So what?"

Yeo Wool smirked and looked at his painted nails. "I've heard that soccer players' upper bodies aren't as cut as their legs…"

This was more familiar ground, and Soo Ho grinned, taking his sweatshirt off in the most arm-flexey way. "You just scored yourself a front-row ticket to the guns show," he said. "I never skip arm day."

Yeo Wool looked impressed. "That was a terrible joke, but you _do_ have nice arms," he said with a nod. "Do you drink protein shakes and things like that?"

"Ew, no," Soo Ho said. "Hate those. I just go to the gym."

"Hm. Maybe I should work out more often than I already do… Han Sung's type seems to be buff guys…" he sighed. "Not my type, unfortunately, but hey."

Suddenly, 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga began to play, and Yeo Wool took his phone out of his bag, beginning to speak rapid-fire Korean. The dude had 'Bad Romance' as his ringtone. Soo Ho didn't know whether he should be laughing… With his limited vocabulary, Soo Ho managed to pick out a conversation like this;

"Hello?" asked Yeo Wool.

"Hey, it's me!"

"Han Sung, my love!" Yeo Wool's face lit up.

"I came here quickly to get you."

"Ah, _you_! Such a sweetie! I'll be right there!" sang Yeo Wool, jumping up and slinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing the handle of his pink Gucci roller case.

"Love you!" the boy on the other end of the phone said cheerfully.

"Love you too!" Yeo Wool crooned. Han Sung hung up first. Yeo Wool looked prepared to run out, but turned back to Soo Ho and called over his shoulder, "See you again, maybe, California Boy!"

Soo Ho lifted a hand in a wave, and then slumped back in the chair, kicking his sports bag full of clothes. He played a few games on his phone, scrolled through Instagram, and liked a few photos of hot girls (and one hot dude). He bought a burger by pointing at a menu and saying, 'please' – another of his hastily-recalled Korean vocabulary words. He ate that, and then wondered if he should fall asleep, bored out of his mind. The airport Wi-Fi was absolute shit. He scrolled through Instagram again and it froze. He swore. He glanced up.

Oh, that was a mistake.

That was when he saw The Hot Dude and his phone fell dramatically out of his hands (and luckily managed to land on the chair between his comfortably spread legs instead of clattering to the ground).

The Hot Dude strode in through the glass doors of the airport as if he owned the place. He was dressed in a very sharp way, and his hair was combed back, maybe gelled – Soo Ho couldn't tell at this distance. His eyes were- Soo Ho swallowed. Holy _shit_. They weren't just eyes, they were Eyes. Somehow, the Hot Dude managed to look pissed off and super attractive at the same time. He was looking around for someone or something, and he hoped it wasn't a girlfriend, because Soo Ho's shirt was made out of boyfriend material, and he'd like to see it on The Hot Dude's floor.

Somewhere either in the background, or in Soo Ho's mind, 'My Heart Will Go On' began to play.

Soo Ho forgot himself and stared. The Hot Dude's Eyes fell on him. It was like one of those moments in life when the expression 'locked gazes' seemed to fit. And again, it wasn't just a gaze, it was a Gaze. Soo Ho's heart jumped and he flexed his arm muscles in a subconscious attempt to impress. The Hot Dude raised his eyebrows and broke off his Gaze, looking down at his phone, then back at Soo Ho. He walked faster and stopped in front of Soo Ho, who was still staring.

"Are you Kim Soo Ho?" The Hot Dude asked (in Korean, obviously), his Eyes narrowed slightly.

"Uh, I am," Soo Ho answered back (also in Korean). It was so weird to have one's last name said before one's first name. It was one's _last_ name for a reason. But The Hot Dude could say Soo Ho's name any way he liked- Soo Ho mentally slapped himself. Up close, this dude looked less like he wanted to get laid and much more like he wanted to fight. "Why?"

"I am Park Ban Ryu," The Hot Dude said stiffly.

Then, it clicked. "Oh!" Soo Ho said, before Park Ban Ryu could say anything more. "You're the… Person whose house I will be staying in." He didn't remember the word for 'homestay host', but he figured he got the meaning across.

"Yes," Ban Ryu said, turning on his heel. "Come."

Soo Ho made a face. Jesus, who put a stick up _this_ dude's butt? He might've been hot, but he acted like quite the asshole. However, he just shrugged and slung his sports bag over his shoulder, following Hot Dude Ban Ryu.

Ban Ryu's car was a black Lambo, and Soo Ho's eyes widened. Another rich homie. If he was staying in this dude's house, Seoul might actually not be that bad. Ban Ryu got in and motioned impatiently for Soo Ho to do the same. Soo Ho shrugged and climbed into the front passenger seat, throwing his bag in the back. "So, uh," he tried in broken Korean, "How old are you?"

"I was born in 1998," Ban Ryu said, not even looking at him.

Soo Ho paused. Couldn't he just say he was nineteen? "Me as well," he said. "That's cool," he added, in a desperate attempt to connect.

"What month?" flatly asked Ban Ryu, having none of that.

"Uh, the sixth one," Soo Ho said, unable to remember the word for 'June' in Korean.

"I'm older," Ban Ryu said, looking very satisfied, as if he had won some sort of great personal victory. "I was born in… The _fourth one_." He gave a Soo Ho a sideways look.

Oh, he might've been so hot it was unreal – but he was an utter asshole. Soo Ho glared. "Hey, I don't speak Korean in a native way, okay?" he retorted.

Ban Ryu looked unperturbed. "Learn," he said. "You're Korean, aren't you?"

"I'm an _American_. I get born in America. I _live_ in America." He angrily hummed the opening bars of the national anthem at 2x speed. "Ame-erica, fuck ye-eah!" he added.

"Not any more, it would seem. You're going to be living here for three months, no?" Ban Ryu's (beautiful, chiseled) lips thinned. "Like I said – learn."

"Fuckin' asshole jerk. What a _dick_ ," Soo Ho said in English, huffily settling back in the seat and glaring out the window, Ban Ryu's gorgeous reflection in the glass pissing him off further. Assholes shouldn't be allowed to be good-looking! He hated this dude already. "Jerkface." Ban Ryu's expression didn't change and he didn't respond to the English insults. Soo Ho tried to repress a grin.

So, apparently, Park Ban Ryu didn't know English. Who knew? This might actually turn out to be pretty fun.

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 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** So, a miracle has occurred - I have updated this story. It was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it.

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During the drive, Ban Ryu had acted like Soo Ho was offending his sensibilities just by _existing_. Somehow, _inexplicably_ , that pissed Soo Ho off quite a bit. The dude might've had a jawline so sharp it could cut, cheekbones so smooth and high that Soo Ho had to tell himself not to stare, extremely sexy eyes, perfect eyebrows, and other ridiculously attractive attributes – but Ban Ryu was not entitled to pissing off everybody within a yard's range, so Soo Ho turned emphatically away, turning his data on to download an English-Korean/Korean-English dictionary. It took a long, long time, and he was pretty sure Ban Ryu smirked at him when he saw him open the app. Unfortunately, there was no direct translation for 'jerkface' or 'dickweed'. Well, damn. He tried several other words that were not fit for polite company, and there were no direct translations either, so he gave up.

Soo Ho took a picture of himself, making sure that Ban Ryu was in the background, with the caption of, 'Korea, bitch,' immediately posting it to Instagram. It was immediately liked by someone called 'Lady_KYW' who began to follow him.

He rolled down the window, propping his head against his arm and looking at the scenery roll by. They were going straight into the city, or at least into the city's inner suburbs. The air was cool and ruffled his hair, and Soo Ho got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things could turn out if not well – then pretty decently. When he got home though, he still wasn't talking to his dad. Clearing his throat, he looked over at his driver. "Hey?"

Ban Ryu raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking off the road and onto Soo Ho for a second. "Hm?"

Soo Ho pushed down the annoyance that rose in him again. He couldn't even ask 'what'…- Anyway- "You… Uh- Have been to America?" he asked in halting but understandable Korean.

"Yes," Ban Ryu said.

"Speak any English?" Soo Ho asked, hoping to re-confirm his doubts.

Ban Ryu's lips twitched for a moment, and Soo Ho thought he was going to smile, but he didn't, levelling an annoyed look at Soo Ho for a moment as they waited for the light at the intersection to turn green. "What would be the point of your 'homecoming' cultural experience if I did?" (He said _something_ like that, Soo Ho had to look up a few words later.)

Soo Ho glared right back at him. "You don't like me, do you…"

"What gave you _that_ idea?" asked Ban Ryu in a tone that meant he gave absolutely zero shits, and maybe that it was a little funny how Soo Ho was acting. Probably some sarcasm thrown in there, too.

"Oh, I don't know," Soo Ho said in the most sarcastic tone he could manage, crossing his arms, "Everything?"

Ban Ryu sighed. "Wrong 'everything'."

"Huh?"

"There are different ways of saying 'everything'. You used the wrong one for the context."

" _Huh_?!"

"You can look it up in your phone dictionary," Ban Ryu said, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

Soo Ho didn't know what the dude's deal was. Was Ban Ryu being an asshole for the hell of it, or was he actually just trying to be helpful? So the only thing he could think of saying was, " _Hu-uh_?!" yet again, like some dumbass. This dude was annoying. However, one thing that Soo Ho was a little bit happy about was that he understood a lot more than he thought he would in Korean. Sure, he couldn't talk very well, but he could kinda understand what people were saying.

Ban Ryu sighed again, with a sort of disparaging disappointment and mild frustration that made Soo Ho want to punch him in his perfect face. "…We'll be there very soon," he said instead of snidely commenting on Soo Ho's response to everything he'd said for the past minute (which he very well could have). 'Huh?!' wasn't the most intelligent one-syllable sound, no matter how much strength and annoyance was behind it.

The drive was completed in silence, Soo Ho looking at his phone, and Ban Ryu at the road. Soo Yeon had texted him, saying something like; 'Good luck, dumbass – send some souvenirs and stuff. It's actually a fun place to be. Text Dad like a normal person, don't be a jerk.' Pissed off, he also replied with nothing but the middle-finger emoji, then relented – sending a one-word reply; 'Sure,' and then relenting even further and adding one more word; 'Later.' Some of his soccer team were asking him if he was alive and if Seoul was 'lit', and he was so busy texting that he didn't notice Ban Ryu coming to a stop in front of big, automated gates and punching in a code, then pulling into a driveway, reversing into a garage.

He only noticed when it got weirdly dark and Ban Ryu switched the engine off, the strange quietness distracting him. He turned off his phone, noticing that Ban Ryu was watching him with a raised eyebrow. "We've arrived, Kim Soo Ho," he said.

Inwardly, Soo Ho cringed at his last name being said first again, but only said; "Oh, uh, yeah. Cool." Ban Ryu did that sigh thing again and rolled his eyes, stepping out of the car. Soo Ho did also, grabbing his bag out of the backseat and following Ban Ryu out of the huge, clean, dark garage.

Then, he saw the house. "Holy _shit_ , my dude!" he said in American. And then in Korean; "This is your house?!"

Calling it a 'house' was a major understatement. It was an honest-to-God mansion, the kind he saw on TV that some dude (who had no right being as rich as he was) lived in. Now, Soo Ho wasn't a from a poor family by any stretch of the word; he lived in a nice two-story house (not counting the attic and the basement) in San Fran – but this was on a totally different scale. It was massive, and every bit of it was square and modern, the chrome-and-glass look of huge, floor-to-ceiling windows almost blinding in the sunlight. It was probably around seven in the morning, since he'd arrived in the airport at maybe four-ish – and the sun was bright. Soo Ho shaded his eyes and _stared_. The roof was flat, like a huge patio, and there was a garden there, as well as all around the mansion; a very carefully-clipped assortment of square bushes and a manicured lawn. The sprinklers were going, the water droplets glittering in the crisp air.

Ban Ryu's face was blank, his footsteps crunching on the gravel path that led up to the front steps. "My father's house," he said shortly.

"Your dad's got a big house," Soo Ho said, shaking his head and hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder, still looking around. 'Big', again, was an understatement, but Soo Ho didn't know what the Korean for; 'Jesus Christ, my dude, your rich-ass dad's got a _nice_ fuckin' crib,' was – so he settled for 'big'.

"I noticed," Ban Ryu snapped. "Let's go."

Jeez, what was eating _him_? wondered Soo Ho, since Ban Ryu was acting twice as annoyed as usual. They walked inside, and Ban Ryu slipped his Oxfords off in a smooth movement, while Soo Ho struggled with the tight laces of his sneakers, holding the bag's strap in his teeth to keep it from slipping off his shoulder. This was a part of Korean culture he knew not to mess up – people didn't wear shoes inside, and he wasn't going to give Ban Ryu another excuse to point out something _else_ he was doing wrong. Just because he was a fish out of water didn't mean he was _totally_ ignorant. With a grunt, he finally got out of his Nikes and put them next to Ban Ryu's on the shoe-rack.

The inside of the house was no less impressive than the outside. It was a very minimalist design, the colors all various shades of white and gray, with maybe a few light-colored wood accents and big, framed pieces of traditional-looking art on the walls. The place looked like a picture out of an Ikea catalogue. There were tall, wooden bookshelves everywhere, and the massive widows let in a lot of light, and the view into the back garden was pretty cool – the backyard looked all traditionally Korean. Soo Ho whistled. "Good house," he said.

"Glad you like it." Ban Ryu's voice was heavy with sarcasm. He led Soo Ho up the stairs. There was one more floor above them, and Ban Ryu made for the stairs quickly, but one of the closed doors opened and he froze, turning around slowly. Soo Ho curiously looked over.

It was some old dude in a suit, whose facial expression could have been taken to mean several things like for instance; 'Something smells like shit,' and, 'It's you,' and, 'I'm also way better than you, goddamn peasant.' Dude looked like a real piece of work. Apparently, he was also Ban Ryu's dad, which explained a few things.

"Father," Ban Ryu said, bowing slightly.

Soo Ho hung back as Mr. Park looked down his nose at his son (which would take some effort, like, Mr. Park was maybe five-two, and Ban Ryu was pretty much as tall as Soo Ho). "You are back."

"I am."

Mr. Park looked at Soo Ho. "And what is that?" he asked flatly.

Soo Ho's eyebrows rose up his forehead and his eyes widened with indignation. ' _What_ is _that_?' was so _totally_ not the way to address Soo Ho Kim, hell _no_ it was _not_. Bitch, it's _on_! Before Ban Ryu could answer, he grinned widely, crossing his arms. "I'm Soo Ho Kim," he drawled in his worst Korean, his American accent mauling the sounds. "Howdy." He stepped forward and shook Mr. Park's hand, gripping hard. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Park. _Really_."

Mr. Park's hand was limp, and his eyes bulged out, as if Soo Ho had just done something rude, unexpected and utterly senseless. Ban Ryu's eyes widened and he covered his face with his hand. "He's American," he said quickly, as if it explained everything – taking Soo Ho's shoulders and forcibly frog-marching him up the stairs. "Excuse us, please."

Once they were on the top floor, Ban Ryu backed Soo Ho against the wall and said quietly; "You would do best to avoid antagonizing my father."

At least, that's what Soo Ho thought he said. A few of the words were unfamiliar. What took up most of his attention was Ban Ryu's hands on his upper arms, pushing him against the wall, and the way his silky red button-up fell open a little when he leaned forward. (Was it just a fashionable Korean dude thing to wear those kinda shirts? Soo Ho wasn't complaining.) "Uh, okay," Soo Ho said. "No pissing off Mr. Park. Got it."

Ban Ryu took a small step back and laughed a little. "Calling him just ' _Park-shi_ ' in such a way sounds like you're talking to your junior at work," he said. "It's like you're looking down on him."

Soo Ho crossed his arms. "I don't know how you do a thing in Korea," he said, "But saying, 'What is this?' when a person is talking about me is looking down on me even more." He lifted his chin and looked Ban Ryu straight in the eyes.

"Do you _know_ who my father is?" Ban Ryu asked, looking at Soo Ho as if he was crazy.

"I don't _care_ who he is. People should act to each other like people, even if a person is more rich than another person."

Ban Ryu shook his head, letting out a sigh, but instead of exasperation, it carried amusement. "Ah," he said, "That American self-righteousness."

Soo Ho glared, pulling his sports bag higher on his shoulder.

With a smooth hand gesture, Ban Ryu pointed at a closed door at the end of the hallway. "Your room," he said. He pointed to another door. "My room. Second floor is Father's area. Ground floor is kitchen, dining room and lounge."

"There a place where I can take a shower?" Soo Ho asked.

"There's a bathroom in every room. Towels and soap, also."

"Like a suite? _Nice_!" Soo Ho said, opening the door to his room and throwing his bag down on the floor. He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, looking down. "Uh… Thanks?" he finally managed.

Ban Ryu didn't say anything to that, only snorting and rolling his eyes a little, giving Soo Ho a sideways look. "…Study our language," was all he said. And before Soo Ho could retort with something witty like, 'Shove 'our language' up your ass!' Ban Ryu left, shutting the door.

Soo Ho let out a sharp breath from his nose, shaking his head, then fell back onto the large bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the jet-lag finally hit him. He dragged himself into the fancy-looking shower, took a few tries to figure out how it worked (taking showers in other people's houses was always more complicated than it had any right to be), washed himself with the girly-smelling soaps whose labels he couldn't read, then threw himself into bed without even bothering to unpack, wearing only boxers with the Batman logo on his crotch.

His third-to-last thought before he passed out was; 'I'm gonna be hella hungry when I wake up.' His second-to-last; 'Ban Ryu is totally the most attractive dude ever.' And his last; 'Dude, is this memory foam?'

He woke up, much later, because something was beeping really fucking loudly next to his left ear. He muttered something sleepy and rude, lifting an arm that immediately fell back down onto the bed from the effort. The beeping didn't stop. "Motherfucker," he swore at it. It didn't stop. "Sonuva fuckin' bitch from hell," he tried. Still beeping. Mustering all of his strength, he sat straight up, his eyes still closed. "I'm fuckin' _up_ already!" he groaned. He finally opened one eye, then the other, and fixed his angry, bleary gaze at the alarm-clock on the bedside table.

He hit a button. The beeping only got louder. "I can't fuckin' read Korean hieroglyphs!" he complained. Pressing several other buttons that didn't do anything, he finally hit one that made the screen display light up, showing that it was six in the morning. If anything, that made him even more angry. Yet, still, he couldn't turn the infernal beeping off. "Bitch _stahp_ …!" he almost begged. Finally, accompanied by an avalanche of profanity, he popped the tab on where the batteries were, and took all of them out.

Thank Jesus, it was finally quiet – and he fell back onto the bed with a sigh of relief.

Someone knocked on his door. Soo Ho managed a non-verbal groan from where he was laying on the bed – and whoever it was at the door took it as a 'Yes, please, come in – you are welcome.'

Ban Ryu stood at the foot of his bed, fully-dressed in another silky button-up and straight pants, not a combed hair out of place, one of his perfect eyebrows raised. "Good morning," he said in a tone of amused condescension. "Breakfast is at seven o'clock, if you wanted to know."

Soo Ho groaned again, eyes half-closed, then shot up, pointing an accusing finger at Ban Ryu. "How are you awake at such an early time?" he demanded in sleep-slurred Korean.

"It is the time I usually wake up," Ban Ryu said imperturbably.

"Why was the, uh…" he couldn't remember the word for 'alarm-clock' in Korean and decided to improvise, "…Screaming wake-up clock turned on?!"

He snorted, visibly fighting to keep waves of amusement down. "… ' _Alarm clock_ '," he corrected. "I must have used it at some point and never turned it off," Ban Ryu said finally. His gaze wandered over to the disassembled alarm-clock on the bedside table and he snorted, but didn't say anything.

"I fuckin' hate this country…" Soo Ho muttered to himself in English, raking his hair back from his forehead, still stretched out on the bed.

"Do you not have any pajamas?" Ban Ryu wondered idly, looking at Soo Ho in his Batman boxers. "I could lend you some, if you ask politely."

Soo Ho hoped that his face didn't turn _too_ red. "Go _away_ ," he groaned, throwing an arm over his face and pulling the blanket up.

Ban Ryu was smirking as he turned away, in the doorway, he paused. "…See you at breakfast, Batman," he said, the smirk obvious in his voice – and then the door swung shut, just as Soo Ho slung a pillow. The pillow hit the door and fell onto the floor, and Soo Ho seethed on the bed, red-faced.

By breakfast time, Soo Ho had gotten dressed; sweatpants, and a T-shirt pretty much identical to the one he wore yesterday. He went down the stairs, tiptoeing by the 'dragon's lair' second floor, and following his nose on the bottom floor, following the smell of food, his stomach growling and his mouth watering. It smelled like a good American breakfast, eggs, bacon, pancakes, maple syrup and butter- Oh, he was both homesick already _and_ hungry – a powerful combo. If Ban Ryu actually made that for breakfast, Soo Ho could probably kiss him. Actually, scratch that, Soo Ho would want to kiss Ban Ryu under most circumstances, even those that didn't include beautiful American breakfasts, but his would be a really happy kiss. Belatedly, Soo Ho decided that thinking about kissing a dude who seemed to outwardly dislike him in every way was probably not a good idea. But hey, a dude could dream, right?

The kitchen was large and spacious, one of the large windows open to get fresh morning air in from the back garden. Ban Ryu was already sitting at the table, eating bacon and eggs, pancakes sitting in a neat little steaming stack on a plate in the middle of the table. The bottle of maple syrup and butter dish sat beside them, there was a large frying pan on the stovetop that must've had the bacon and eggs on it, and there was an empty plate with cutlery sitting in the place at the table beside Ban Ryu, ostensibly for Soo Ho.

"Yo," Soo Ho said, taking the plate. "This is _amazing_. Food for me?"

Ban Ryu nodded, and Soo Ho grinned, piling his plate with bacon, eggs, pancakes, cutting off a thick slab of butter for his pancakes and then pouring what was probably an obscene amount of maple syrup on them (judging by Ban Ryu's startled expression, at least). He sat down and began to tuck in. Holy _shit_ he was hungry.

By the time he was done, Ban Ryu was also done, and he was looking at Soo Ho with an undisguised mix of wonderment, disgust and amusement. "What?" asked Soo Ho, wiping a little maple syrup from the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"How can you put maple syrup on bacon and eggs?" asked Ban Ryu, as if he was personally offended.

Soo Ho couldn't help it, he laughed. "Are you kidding me? It's the best way to eat it."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Please tell me what you thought.


End file.
